I DON'T KNOW YOU
by HurryUpSlowly
Summary: Spoiler-heavy one-shot set in late season 4. Inspired by SSJL's Different Places. Altogether, the perfect antidote to my other story, How I Measure My Time. How's that for an incentive to read it? B/B, of course.


**Please read this first (spoiler alert)!**

_This one-shot is inspired by (and a continuation of) SSJL's rather scary scenario in _Different Places _(Thanks, Jamie!). Just because I couldn't get it out of my head. It starts about a week after _Different Places._ Both stories are based on what I like to call informed speculation about the season 4 finale and are therefore fairly spoiler-heavy (_I Don't Know You_ by implication rather than directly). _

_This is a one-shot for therapeutic purposes and I have no plans to continue with it at the moment. :)_

**Setting: **_The end of season 4 or any point in the show when this happens._

**Disclaimer: **_Nope, not mine, but they're fun to play with._

_

* * *

_

**I Don't Know You**

**

* * *

**

She sees him again a week later, when he calls to let her know that they have a case and asks her to meet him at the Hoover building. She thinks that she can detect only faint traces of his usual energetic self, but then she is no good at interpreting people's moods when they are face to face, never mind over the phone.

She does not want to remember the past week. The way she made a quiet, almost furtive exit from Booth's apartment (was that really just a few days ago?). That she wanted to call him, her hand automatically picking up the phone so many times. She didn't, because, although she cannot possibly imagine what she could do worse, she is pretty sure she'd find a way.

When she finally sees him, she thinks that he looks... worn. His posture is stiff (_has his back been acting up again?_), his jaw tight (_he's going to get a headache_). They get into the SUV and he drives her to the crime scene with barely a few words. She does not know what to say, so she keeps quiet as well, staring out of the window. When he cannot find a parking spot nearby, he leaves the car a few blocks away and they walk, the silence becoming increasingly unbearable with every step.

"...I'm sorry", she blurts out, shuffling her feet on the sidewalk.

"...yeah," he replies. He does not reciprocate.

"What do we do now?" she asks, looking at her shoes.

Of course he has an answer. He always does.

"We do what we're best at. We solve cases and we forget about the rest. We can't run to our bosses and ask them to split us up because we made one mistake. It wouldn't do our professional careers any good, I guess you'd agree."

She nods quickly, her shoulders slumping in relief for a split second.

_Please call me Bones_, she asks him silently, but she does not say it out loud.

He takes a deep breath and she thinks for a second that he is going to place his hands on her shoulders. He shoves them in his pockets instead.

"Listen to me. You've come such a long way since I first met you," he says, a familiar (residual?, she wonders) warmth creeping into his voice. "And you're in a good place now. You have an amazing professional career, you have your friends at the lab, you have your family. You're doing great. Better than great. Whatever you want to do from now on, you'll be very good at it, you always are. Keep that in mind, okay?"

She fumbles around for an answer and comes up with a question instead.

"Are you... going somewhere?"

"No, of course not. We have a case to solve, remember?"

His smile does not quite reach his eyes.

They have almost arrived, and she suddenly wishes she has more time to figure out what's going on, what should be there but isn't. She wants to touch him, stop him, make him tell her what's missing. Her brain hones in on a detail instead.

"Booth, you're not wearing your belt buckle", she states abruptly. "...a flashy tie, or those weird socks", she adds upon closer inspection.

"Yeah," he replies without breaking his stride, his eyes focused on their destination. "Getting a little too old for that, don't you think?" he continues, knocking on the door without waiting for a reply.

She does not understand why, but she feels that this is one of the most important things he has ever told her.

* * *

_Just a little angst to relieve the inherent fluffiness of _How I Measure My Time._ Pretty pointless, I agree, but I just had to get it out of my system._

_You can also take this as a good-bye story – the challenge that I set myself for it was to find a plausible way in which the writers could get Booth to leave Brennan ...without leaving (that is, while continuing to work with her, because otherwise there would be no show). The premise is that they sleep together and then something happens to split them apart (oh, and it's Brennan's fault). _

_For the record - no, I don't want this to happen on the show. _

_Please review, even if you didn't like it – or especially if you didn't like it._


End file.
